


Abed Nadir's Day Off

by trobedisons



Category: Community (TV), Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) Fusion, Crossover, F/M, M/M, META meta, Meta, Metafiction, Movie Reference, Multi, OT3, Trobed, Trobedison, abed would love this fic, author therefore will project on this fic, author's favorite movie, established trobedison, he loves the breakfast club and sixteen candles so by default he loves ferris bueller, no pierce all my homies hate pierce, so freaking meta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26369632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trobedisons/pseuds/trobedisons
Summary: "Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." - Ferris Bueller/Abed NadirAbed wants to take a day off from Greendale. He brings his girlfriend, Annie, and his boyfriend, Troy along for the ride. Basically this fic is a Ferris Bueller AU in the Community-verse with a whole lot of Trobed/Trobedison.
Relationships: Annie Edison & Abed Nadir, Annie Edison/Abed Nadir, Britta Perry & Jeff Winger, Britta Perry/Jeff Winger, Troy Barnes & Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes & Annie Edison, Troy Barnes & Annie Edison & Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes & Annie Edison & Abed Nadir & Britta Perry, Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes/Annie Edison, Troy Barnes/Annie Edison/Abed Nadir
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	1. Scene 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said I had an AU I was excited for? This is it! Ferris Bueller's Day Off is actually my favorite movie, and it features an iconic trio much like a certain NBC sitcom does. I will never be off my Trobedison bullshit.
> 
> Update: I am now back at Spirit Halloween because that "full time job" barely lasted before they changed their mind about an entry level worker. Writing fic makes me happy though, and I genuinely appreciate your kudos and comments. <3

_It is a beautiful day in Chicago._

_Temperatures in the upper 70's. Right now, 75 at the lakefront, 74 at Midway, 73 at O'Hare._

"Hello? Mrs. Nadir?" A frantic voice, the shuffling of papers marked with measurements and doctor's signatures. "Yes -- this is Britta Perry. I'm a friend of Abed. He seems -- really, really sick this morning. I was going to head to class when I heard him moaning from his room --" Shaking fingers tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "If you can find some way to get here, he's your son, and I don't want to step on any toes, and I really think you might have that maternal, feminist instinct -- oh, thank you, MrS. Nadir! Yes, um. I'll hang up now."

___

The older man entered the apartment, tying the apron around his waist. A grimace as he noticed an grease stain on the front, for he will dread doing laundry. Ever since his wife left, he did all the chores himself. Cooked for himself, cleaned himself, ran a falafel restaurant by himself. His son had gone off to college, majoring in film. They thought he was too fragile, that he wouldn't understand what their divorce even meant. After seeing his film, he realized he understood more than they ever thought possible. After receiving his text, Gobi came over as soon as he could, in the middle of his morning routine. But he didn't expect Raya here. Just hearing the sound of his ex-wife's voice filled with concern made his heart seize in his chest.

Eyes widened at the sight before him. His ex-wife knelt at the side of the bed with the back of her hand pressed against Abed's forehead. He hadn't seen his ex-wife, Abed's mother, in years. This must've been an emergency. Abed laid there with his eyes closed, hair matted with sweat against his face. He whimpered weakly. 

Gobi walked over to the bed and peered down at his son. "What's the matter?" 

"It's our son! Look at him. He doesn't have a fever, but his stomach hurts and he's seeing spots."

Abed blinked his eyes open with a dazed expression. "Papa?" he whispered.

Mrs. Nadir stood up and took one of her son's hands, limp in her grasp. "Gobi -- feel his hands, they're cold and clammy."

"Do you really believe this, Raya? It could just be another one of his -- stupid movie references!" the man exclaimed. "Why else do you think he brought both of us out of the house?"

"He goes to that college every day. Who knows what the other students could have given him?"

"I'll get up," Abed intervened. His parents stopped to look at him. "As long as it means you'll stop fighting, I'll go to school. I have a test, and I want to go to a good film school so I can have a fruitful life."

Britta lifted the sheet and stepped inside the blanket fort. "How is he doing?"

Gobi rolled his eyes. "Great, the blonde who tried to question my parental authority is here."

"Britta?" Abed croaked, craning his neck up to squint at the silhouette. "Is that you?"

The blonde folded her arms and scoffed. "My parents would make me go to school if I was bleeding out my eyes," she remarked. "So unfair."

"Britta -- don't be upset with me," Abed said. "You have your health, be thankful."

Zipping up her coat, Mrs. Nadir stepped out of the blanket fort. "Well, Miss Britta, thank you for contacting us, but I must get going. I have some errands to run." 

"Understandable, Mrs. Nadir," Britta said, perhaps too eagerly, trying to overcompensate like always. "Have a wonderful rest of your day. I'll make sure he's a-okay." Yep. Too much.

The woman simply offered a polite nod and walked past to the door. She didn't say goodbye to Abed or her ex-husband. Both of them noticed. And perhaps Gobi had even watched her leave and wondered if she intended to do that.

Gobi let out a sigh and brought his attention back to his bed-ridden son. ""Drink fluids, take a nice bath," he suggested. "If you need, you can call the restaurant. I gave your peppy, brunette friend the number."

"Okay," Abed said. 

Gobi lowered his voice. He knew he needed to be patient with him. "We may no longer be together. But we love you, son. Both of us."

"Love you too, dad."

With that, Gobi left the apartment, having no intention to speak to the crazy blonde lady. Speaking of whom, she crossed over to Abed and took his hand. "They may no longer be together, but they love you. And I love you, Abed. It's going to be okay." Her eyes lit up, meaning she had an idea that might be mildly offensive in an attempt to be inoffensive. "How about I stay and take care of you? I could brew you some homemade organic kombucha. It's vegan and good for the tummy!" She darted her hand forward to tickle his midsection, which Abed moved away from.

"No thanks." Homemade kombucha sounded gross, but he knew Britta meant well, so he withheld that information. He began to understand that sharing his thoughts out loud wasn't always appropriate. It was already hard enough not to scold their friend Shirley for her excessive baking. "Tell the study group I say hi."

"Alright. Speaking of which, I have to cram for that Anthropology test," Britta groaned. "I can't believe _Duncan_ is giving us tests. I'll see you later, okay?" She offered a kind smile, one that seemed genuine, before leaving the apartment.

As soon as Abed heard the door closed, he sat up in his bed.

_And, action._

_____

_INT. BLANKET FORT - TROY AND ABED'S BEDROOM._

CLOSE UP: Our protagonist, ABED NADIR, bolts upright in his bed. His eyes are wide, and his hair is disheveled.

(ABED reaches for the remote and clicks on the TV. He changes the channel to MTV. Electric guitar riff plays. He turns to the side, to stare at where a camera would be positioned.)

ABED: They bought it. Incredible! A terrible performance, a line for line reference to Ferris Bueller's Day Off directed by John Hughes, and they never doubted it for a second.

(Swinging his legs over the bed, ABED hops down and heads into ANNIE'S room. He opens up the blinds. The sun's rays stream into the room, bright and blinding, with the sound of birds chirping in the trees.)

ABED: How could I be expected to handle school on a day like this?

PAN TO: A beautiful day by film standards. Clear blue skies, not a single cloud in sight. 

(After admiring the view, ABED heads back into the blanket fort and adjusts the TV volume. He turns to the invisible camera again.)

ABED: This is my ninth sick day. It's tough coming up with new illnesses. If I go for ten, I'll have to barf up a lung. So I better make this one count, especially if I plan to do an exact recreation of the movie.

(He walks out of the blanket fort in a red and gray striped robe. He prepares a bowl of Lucky Charms and sits down at the table.)

ABED: According to Ferris, the key to faking out the parents and the people living in your apartment is clammy hands. It's a good non-specific symptom. A lot of people will tell you to go for the phony fever, but if you get a nervous Britta, you could wind up in a doctor's office.

(He loads a spoonful of Lucky Charms with marshmallows before eating it.)

That's worse than school. You fake a stomach cramp. When you're bent over wailing, you lick your palms. It's childish and stupid, but then, so is any class Professor Duncan teaches.

(Like Ferris, Abed quickly walks to the bathroom, to deliver the iconic line:)

ABED: Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

CLOSE UP: Shower knob turning clockwise. 

ABED: I do have a test today. That wasn't bullshit. It's for Anthropology, chapters four through six on Darwinism and evolutionary theory.

PAN TO: ABED in the shower, hair fashioned into a mohawk with shampoo, holding the running shower head like a microphone and crooning. .

_I recall Central Park in fall, how you tore your dress, what a mess, I confess._

(Steam begins to rise around him, as ABED puts a hand up to the camera. A moment later, he exits with Annie's pink towel wrapped around his head and a Batman towel wrapped around his waist.)

ABED: It's not that I don't know about Darwinism, or any "ism." A person should not believe in an "ism." I know I'm quoting the movie verbatim, but I still think that's true. Even if I kept going with the rest of Matthew Broderick's lines, I'd still need to bum a ride off Britta to get a Blu-Ray copy of the movie. I wonder what's happening at Greendale right now.


	2. Scene 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Abed?"
> 
> Hesitation. Then Professor Duncan cleared his throat. "Abed...Abed?"
> 
> Chapter 2 of "Abed Nadir's Day Off" - Community with Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, me writing a second chapter so soon? I'm really on a roll with this fic. And yes, I will update the comic-con one, I promise. I also promise no more Pierce except for his one line here. 
> 
> Just to give you a character overview:
> 
> Abed - Ferris  
> Troy - Cameron  
> Britta - Jeannie  
> Chang - Principal Rooney  
> Prof. Duncan - Economics Professor  
> Dean Pelton - Secretary  
> Shirley is Shirley :') We love her.
> 
> Jeff, Annie, and Leonard will appear later *wink*. Let me know how you like this AU in the comments, and if it's something I should do more of!

_ I wonder what's happening at Greendale. _

"Vicki?"

"Here."

"Fat Neil?"

"Here." Spoken with a dejected sigh, as he hated the derogatory nickname.

"Abed?"

Hesitation. Then Professor Duncan cleared his throat. "Abed...Abed?"

Britta raised her hand. "He's sick. He -- and I went out to save the whales, but he got seasick and had to go back to shore to throw up. And then we saw all of this litter that could choke the poor baby otters, and we cleaned the whole beach." Not true, but anything to make her look like an activist.

Pierce snorted. "If I had to guess, I bet Ay-bed is doing one of those Tintin Quarantino type things."

Professor Duncan sighed. "Thank you, Britta and Pierce, even though  _ nobody _ asked." He looked back at his roster and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Troy? Troy...Troy?"

___

INT. The Dreamatorium

(Our new setting is a tropical island. ABED reclines in a lounge chair sipping from a swirly straw in a pineapple, complete with a paper umbrella. He puts his drink down on a side table, next to the radio. “Daybreak” plays faintly from its speakers. ABED looks into the camera.)

ABED: Troy went to get more of his belongings from Pierce’s place, but now Pierce roped him into doing things around the house. He stayed the night in his guest bedroom, where he used to live before moving in with me. If he’s not in Anthropology, then he’s still in bed. This is the part where I give him a call.

INT. The guest bedroom in PIERCE HAWTHORNE’S mansion.

SFX: Phone ringing. Ringtone is Inspector Spacetime theme. It’s ABED. 

(A hand emerges from under the covers and clamors for his phone. TROY BARNES begins to stir. He scoots up and rests against the headboard, where we can see he's wearing his Spider-man pajamas. TROY stretches his spare arm before pressing the button.)

TROY: Hello? (yawns) Abed?

ABED: What’s happening, Troy?

TROY: Very little.

ABED: How do you feel?

TROY: Like absolute doo-doo.

Abed lifted his sunglasses and put down his pineapple drink. “That's not your next line. I’m kinda going off a script right now,” he said. “Your next line was supposed to be “shredded.”

Troy furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t understand.”

A pause. Trying not to focus on the off-script tangent, Abed continued. “Is your mother in the room?"

“No, I’m at Pierce’s house," he responded. "And biologically that wouldn’t make any sense.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m doing a  _ Ferris Bueller’s Day Off  _ episode and I want you to be my Cameron.”

“Abed, I’ve never seen  _ Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,”  _ he answered. “What is he taking a day off from? Does he change the calendar?” A small gasp, as his voice lowered to a whisper. “You can do that?”

“I’m taking the day off," Abed announced proudly, settling back into the lounge chair. "You should come over.”

“But Pierce still needs me to help install the armoire. I don't even know what an armoire is, man. I better be getting a commission fee on top of what he’s paying me to lend a hand.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Now come on over and pick me up.”

The worry in the other boy's voice suddenly became palpable. “I don’t have a car!” 

“Just steal the Ferrari in Pierce’s garage,” Abed said flatly, not seeing theft as an issue for the sake of a movie recreation. “He should be taking the Anthropology exam.”

Troy smacked himself on the head. “Shoot, I thought today was Wednesday!" he exclaimed. Disappointment quickly morphed into hysteria. "Now I wish Ferris Bueller _really_ did change the calendar! Nooooo!”

(TROY begins to wail on the other side of the phone. ABED places his hand over the receiver and looks at the camera.)

ABED: Troy really needs a day off. He has a lot of things to sort out before he graduates from Greendale. (putting on his best Matthew Broderick impression) Troy is so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal stuck up his butt, it would turn into a diamond. He might like that though. 

(ABED takes another sip of his drink and shrugs.)

ABED: He’s into butt stuff.

___

After taking the Anthropology exam, which Professor Duncan copied and pasted from the textbook (and it was open book), Britta headed to the study room. It would be weird without Troy or Abed, but she wanted to pass the time. And she wasn't going to use that time to _actually_ study. Upon passing the administrative office, Dean Pelton called out to her. Confused, Britta slowly entered the office and sat down. 

"Hi Dean Pelton," she greeted awkwardly. "Is this about my petition to make the chicken sandwiches free of chicken?"

"No, it isn't, but we'll talk about that later." After removing the dalmatian figurine from his desk, Dean Pelton cleared his throat.  “Britta, are you aware Abed isn’t in school?”

Britta paused before responding. “Yeah, Abed is home sick.”

The dean raised an eyebrow and moved his computer mouse. “Are you also aware that Abed does not have an exemplary attendance record?”

Pale blue eyes widened. "What?" Now getting up from the chair and scurrying behind his desk.

“Well according to my Excel spreadsheet, he has missed an unacceptable number of school days." He hovered over the cells (which is why they call it Ex-cel!) and clicked on the number highlighted in green. "Abed is not taking his academic growth seriously.”

No. That couldn't be right. Abed attended class every day, so how could he have any absences? Maybe she was being too heartfelt about it. Maybe she didn't want to believe that he was pulling a Ferris Bueller on her today. Britta scrunched her nose and looked over at the dean. “Since when did you care about academic growth and not hosting a non-offensive puppy parade?"

“Well I’ve spent my morning examining his records!" Britta and Dean Pelton looked up to see Chang in the doorway. He held up a stack of yellow and pink papers with a proud smug. "And I’ve been eavesdropping through the air vents." As he approached, Britta noticed the bags around his eyes. "He has been absent nine times!”

“Yeah right -- Robin Wright," Britta remarked before snatching the papers from Chang. She shuffled through until she recognized the file of her friend. Meanwhile, Chang laughed.

"Wake up and smell the coffee," he sneered. "It's a fool's paradise. He's leading you down the primrose path.” 

"Oh my gosh." Britta gasped, dropping the papers. "How could I be so stupid? He's pulling a Ferris Bueller on us!"

___

Skipping the study room, Britta trudged towards her next class. She couldn't believe she fell for the movie schtick. For the sake of not wanting to feel like an idiot, Britta tried to think. Abed always told the truth, to the point where it hurt people's feelings, which they talked about. And to think she called both his parents, and then lied for him in Anthropology! He should've been there across the room taking his test. Upon hearing the lilting syllables of her name in a honey sweet voice, Britta closed her eyes and winced.

“Brit-ta,” Shirley greeted, hurrying to meet up with the blonde. “I’m happy to hear about all the happy little fishies you saved, but I'm really sorry about Abed.”

“What are you sorry for?” She scoffed as she kept walking. “I have to live with him.”

Shirley tugged on the strap of he oversized purse. “Well I heard he’s really sick. A bunch of people say he's close to death. I heard that if Abed dies, he's giving his eyes to Stevie Wonder." A serene smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "Oh, that’s nice.”

___

Back at the office, Chang paced back and forth, kicking the air in front of him. Finally, the dean had enough, and let out an exasperated sigh. 

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Chang?"

Ignoring the dean, Chang shook his head, continuing to pace. “I don’t trust Abed any further than I can throw him."

Lazily thumbing through the files, the dean shook his head. “With your bad knee, Chang, you shouldn't throw anybody," he remarked with a wave of his hand. “And Greendale would probably get a discrimination lawsuit. It’s true.”

Chang snarled and folded his arms over his chest. “That whole study group hates me. The last thing I need is fifteen hundred study groups running around these halls, promising me I can join, and then bailing at the last minute. Every time I think I'm in they flip the script. I’ll have to hide up on that shelf forever.”

Dean Pelton chuckled to himself. “Oh, well, the study group is very popular, especially Abed. Fat Neil, Garrett, Pavel, Magnitude, they all adore him. They think he’s a righteous dude.”

Slamming his hands down on the desk, which startled the dean, Chang let out a frustrated cry. Then, a sinister smile slowly spread across his face. Beady eyes narrowed as a nefarious plan unfurled in his mind. “That’s why I have to catch him."


	3. Scene 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TROY: Ow!
> 
> ABED: Where’s your brain?
> 
> TROY: Why did you kick me? You know I have sensitive calves!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for scene 3! This one is a little hectic, but it was fun to write. I always leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but in the next chapter, Troy and Abed get their Annie!

INT. The Dreamatorium. Now set to a vintage boozy speakeasy, where Abed reclines on a velvet couch with a glass of chardonnay in hand. The soft sounds of jazz play in the background.

ABED: I’m serious man. This is ridiculous, making me wait around the house for you.

TROY: (still crying) How could I forget about the Anthropology exam?

ABED: Cameron, this is my ninth sick day. If I get caught, we won't graduate and do our spin-off of Kickpuncher. 

TROY: Do you know what my diastolic is?! (sniffles) And I still don’t know a Cameron!

ABED: Come on. Have some Gushers and get dressed and come on over here. I’m tired of this stuff.

SFX. Phone ringing.

ABED: Hold on, I’m getting another call. 

He pressed the button on his cell phone and then put it to his ear. “Hello?" Expecting to hear a deep voice, and instead hearing the concerned greeting of familiar woman, he froze. She spoke again. " Abed?” 

The setting glitches and fades around him, back to the spare bedroom covered in orange tape. According to Hughes’ script, his dad was supposed to call, not Shirley. In spite of his goal of a one-hundred-percent faithful recreation, he might be able to make this work.

He let out a few dry, hacking coughs. “Uh, hi.”

“Oh no," Shirley answered, voice dropping in that usual coo. "You sound terrible.”

“Really? Darn. I thought I was improving.”

“You know, when I feel sick, I open up the Bible and --”

“Shirley? Can you hang on for a second?”

(ABED presses the button again to transfer to Troy.)

“Troy? It’s Shirley.”

TROY: Oh great. Keep me out of it.

ABED: If you’re not over here in fifteen minutes, I’m gonna throw out the giant bag of kettlecorn.

TROY: Yeah, you’ve been saying that to get me to do whatever because you know it’s a fun time snack.

Another click of the button. “Shirley?" Abed croaked. "All this talking has made me kind of light headed. I think I ought to lie down."

“Okay, well, take a hot bath, drink some soup, and say a few prayers. You better put in a good word for me like I do with you.”

“Okay.”

“I’m off to class -- unfortunately with that blonde skinny bitch moping around.” A nervous pause. “I mean, take care Abed!” 

SFX. Dial tone.

Abed furrowed his eyebrows. He knew those string of insults pertained to Britta. Why would she be moping around? Of course he could pin it on environmental injustice or animal cruelty, but he focused on the verbiage. _Moping._ An ache -- an ache of that she knew. He didn't intend for Britta to become the Jeannie of the movie, but it made sense given the archetype. Ferris didn't worry about Jeannie until the tail end of the film, Abed put it on the back shelf of his mind. He carried her kicking and screaming once before. Certainly he could do it again. Only with Troy and Annie's help, of course.

ABED: I’m so disappointed in Cameron. Twenty bucks says he’s sitting in on his bike debating about whether or not he should go out.

___

INT. Outside. TROY is on his bike, silently fuming. He adjusts his neon blue helmet. He grips the handlebars and exhales.

TROY: He'll keep calling me. He'll keep calling until I come over. This is ridiculous.

(He begins to dismount, before swinging his leg back over the seat.)

TROY: Okay! I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. 

(He begins to sob, setting off the bell as he doubles over.)

TROY: Dammit, Ferris Bueller! Why did you have to take the day off? My emotions! My emotions!

___

Biology. Another class Troy and Abed were supposed to attend. As always, Annie sat at the front of the classroom, furiously taking notes as Professor Kane delivered his lecture. She shook her purple gel pen for more ink before dotting an "i" with a tiny heart.

Professor Kane cleared his throat. “ Mitochondria are tiny organelles inside cells that help release energy from food. This process is known as cellular respiration. It is for this reason that mitochondria are often referred to as the powerhouses of the cell.” He folded his arms across his chest upon hearing the snickering.  “Why is everybody laughing?”

"Dean-dong! It's the dean." The bald man strode into the room with a chuckle. “May I interrupt please? I need to speak with Annie Edison.”

Professor Kane sighed and threw his hands up in the air. _Never a normal moment at Greendale._ A mental memo to keep the classroom door closed. “I guess so.”

Annie pointed at herself questionably, and Dean Pelton beckoned her forward. Blue eyes widened as she slowly rose from her seat. She'd never been called out of class before. She never got detention in her life! Did detention even exist in community college? What if they found out about the one time Britta offered her CBD gummies on campus? Annie followed the dean out into the hall with her head down. 

The dean placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Annie, my dear," he said with an pitying frown. "I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. Your father called. Your grandmother just passed.”

“W-what?" Annie stammered. Lashes fluttered, lower lip quivered as she burst into a sob. "Oh!” She threw her arms around the dean, who immediately returned the embrace.

“I know, I know," the Dean responded, nodding his head. "Let's get you some tissues and the bowl of jellybeans from my desk. I don't think those candies expire."

____

When the dean returned to the office, Chang sat in his chair. “Dead grandmother?” he snorted. 

“Chang, have you been eavesdropping through the vents again?" So the strange sound during his call with Mr. Edison hadn't been a figment of his imagination. To think he blamed it on watching that horror movie in 2005. "I told you that is a complete violation of privacy."  Dean Pelton looked back into the lobby, where Annie sat with the bowl of jellybeans in her lap. He placed a hand on his heart and sighed. "Poor little lamb.”

“Doesn’t Annie live with Troy and Abed?”

“Yes in-deaneed!" He smiled, reminiscing his last visit to Apartment 303. "I actually crashed their pajama party this one time --”

Chang burst out of his chair, cutting off the dean's story. “Get me Mr. Edison’s daytime number.”

The dean gasped and removed the phone from his desk. “Absolutely not Chang." he scolded. "We are not getting involved with a death in the family. I don’t even know how Jewish funerals work --"

A man with a Southern accent answered the call. “This is Mr. Edison.”

"This is _Señor Chang_.” 

Dean Pelton reached for the phone and interjected. “Well, technically you’re not a professor anymore -- ow!” Now cradling his shoulder from the smaller man's shove. 

“Chang? This is -- Mr. Edison. W e’ve had a bit of bad luck this morning as you may have heard."

“Yeah, I heard," Chang replied, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "And I’m all broken up. Boy, what a blow.”

“It’s been a tough morning and we have a lot of family business to take care of, so if you wouldn’t mind excusing Annie, I’d appreciate it.”

“Uh, sure, I’d be happy to," he answered with a self-satisfied smirk. "Yeah, you uh, just produce a corpse and I’ll uh, release Annie. I want to see this dead grandmother with my own eyes.”

“Chang!" the dean shouted, grabbing at the cord and missing. "You do not have the authority to do that!"

“Shut up, Dean!" Chang shouted back, snatching the phone closer to his body. "It’s Abed, the little twerp. I’m gonna set a trap and let him fall right into it.”

Mr. Edison cleared his throat and released a manly sneeze. “I’m sorry, did you say you wanted to see a body?” 

As the two men clamored for the phone, climbing on top of each other, knocking off paperclips, costume accessories, and dalmatian paraphernalia from the desk, Chang spoke again. He raised his voice to drown out the protests of the man currently underneath him. “Yeah, that’s right. Just roll her bones on over here and I’ll dig up your daughter. You know that’s school policy."

Finally, the Dean seized the phone with a victorious cry, but it didn't stop Chang from climbing on top of him and pressing his face against the receiver. Upon seeing the flashing red button underneath the word **TRANSFER,** the Dean narrowed his eyes. Then a familiar last name came up on the screen, and his face went white.

“I’ll tell you what! I’m not going to  _ Chang _ the school policy so you can leave me out of the study group! You can just come on down here and smooch my big old butt.”

“ _CHANG!_ ” came a guttural scream. 

“Pucker up, buttercup." Chang turned to the dean and scoffed. "What?”

The dean could barely speak, throat clogged from shock. Slowly and quietly, he responded. “Abed is on the other line.” 

Chang pressed the button, and heard the familiar voice on the other line. “Hey, dean? It's Abed. I don’t mean to disturb you but I’m not feeling very well today and I was wondering if it would be possible for Britta to bring home any assignments from my classes that I might need. Have a nice day.” 

Now just as speechless and pale, putting the phone up to his ear.  “Mr. Edison -- I think I owe you an apology, sir.”

___

INT. Apartment 303. ABED and TROY sit at the table with the landline phone on speaker.

CHANG: Mr. Edison --- I think I owe you an apology, sir.

TROY: Well I should say you do! (in response to stammering) I think you should be sorry for Christ’s sake! A family member dies and you insult me. What the hell is the matter with you?

DEAN PELTON: Mr. Edison, this is Dean Pelton. I am so sorry for this man. He didn’t think he was talking to you, and he was talking to someone else -- and we think this man is a psychopath. You must know that we would never deliberately insult you, or anyone else for that matter, like that. I can’t begin to tell you how embarrassed I am.

TROY: Pardon my French, but Chang’s an asshole! Asshole!

“Absolutely right, sir!" The Dean swallowed hard, agreeing, but still in shock. "You hit the nail right on the head."

TROY: This isn’t over, buster. Do you read me?

“Y-yes, I --”

TROY: Call me sir, goddamn it!

“Yes!" the dean exclaimed, almost orgasmically. "Yes, sir!”

TROY: That’s better. Ya’ll best mind your P’s and Q’s, and remember who you’re dealing with.

ABED: Bueller. Ferris Bueller. That was perfect, Troy.

TROY: I’m kind of scared because what if he recognizes my Georgia accent from the Model UN debate?

ABED: Impossible. You’re doing great.

TROY: Uh -- I want Annie out in front of the school in ten minutes. By herself. 

ABED: Okay, I know I have one foot in the movie right now, but that might not be doable. Cover it.

TROY: You!

ABED: Talk.

TROY: Chang? Dean Pelton? Listen here, now. Pay attention, boys. I changed my mind. I want you to be out in front with her. I wanna have a few words with you, by golly. (upon hearing high pitched whimpers from his boyfriend) On second thought, I don’t have time to talk right now. We’ll get together soon and have lunch at Senor Kevins. 

(ABED lifts his foot to hit TROY's leg.)

TROY: Ow!

ABED: Where’s your brain?

TROY: Why did you kick me? You know I have sensitive calves!

ABED: Where’s your brain?

TROY: My brain is in my head, duh-doy.

ABED: How can we pick up Annie if Chang and the Dean are there with her?

TROY: I said for her to be there alone and you kicked me.

ABED: I didn’t kick you, I --

“You kicked me, Abed. Look, don’t ask me to participate in your remake if you don’t like the way I do it. You make me get out of bed, you make me come over here, you make me make a phony phone call to the Dean, who’s in cahoots with Chang, who is worse than Stalin only because I don’t know who Stalin is, and then -- you deliberately hurt my feelings, man.

“No, I didn’t deliberately hurt your feelings.”

Troy scoffed. “Oh, really?”

Abed paused, thinking for a moment, then he shook his head. “Really. No I didn’t.” Seeing Troy take the key out of his pocket and walk away, Abed craned his head.

“Where are you going?” he asked, raising a finger before quickly tucking it down.

“See you later, buddy. I’m going home.” With that, Troy unlocked the blanket fort and stepped inside.

For the first time today, Abed forgot his lines. He got up and walked over to the blanket fort. He couldn't do this without his Cameron, his Troy. They did everything together. But he shouldn't have roped him into this recreation without communicating the plot devices. It was a lot to spring onto him. And he was sensitive, and Abed should be more respectful of that. It was easy to act on impulse, yet he remembered the new power of empathy, that Annie had taught him. 

“Troy?" He went to push past the sheet, but he remembered to respect people's privacy. It only made sense, because he hated it when others barged in on his self D&D sessions or cartoon marathons. "Troy --can I come in?"

A pause, until he heard a sigh from the other side of the sheet. "You can come in."

He entered to see Troy sitting on his bed with a miserable expression. Abed sat down next to him. "That was uncalled for," he said. "I shouldn’t over direct. Like we have our own worlds, I just get caught up in my own smaller world. I'm sorry."

Troy looked up and took his boyfriend's hand. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Abed answered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But to fix this situation, I have to ask you for small favor..."


	4. Scene 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through his sunglasses, Abed looked down at Annie and smirked. Putting on his best Don Draper impression, he placed the pad of his thumb on her chin. “Do you have a kiss for Daddy?”
> 
> The brunette giggled. “You’ve gotta be kidding.” With that, she leaned in and kissed her boyfriend. Tongues slipped into each other’s mouths, hands beginning to roam underneath his jacket and her cardigan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a new chapter. I have been so busy and I thank everyone for their patience. More to come!

TROY: The 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California. Less than a hundred were made. My father spent three years restoring this car. It is his love, it is his passion.

Troy looked up from the notepad and turned to Abed. “I don’t think Pierce’s car is actually a 1961 Ferrari.” 

“Definitely not,” Abed answered in agreement. “But you nailed the line.”

After doing their special handshake, they turned their attention back to the car.

ABED: It is his fault he didn’t lock the garage. 

TROY: Woah, Abed, what are you talking about? Pierce loves this car more than he loves making jokes about women.

ABED: A man with priorities so far out of whack doesn’t deserve such a fine automobile.

TROY: I’ve never seen him drive it. He just rubs it and talks dirty to it. Remember how insane he went over the meteor wand that was actually a cookie wand? 

ABED: But we can’t pick up our girlfriend on your bike. It’s not built for two, let alone three. And neither of us have a car.

TROY: You know how you know about movies? Pierce knows everything about this car. He knows the mileage.

ABED: (furrowing his eyebrows) He doesn’t trust you?

TROY: (sighs) Never has, never will.

ABED: Okay. Whatever miles we put on it, we’ll take off.

TROY: How?

ABED: We’ll drive home backwards. And then --

Troy shook his head as his voice rose to a crescendo. “No. No, Abed!" Now stomping around to face his boyfriend, Troy began to shout . "Neither of us have a license. I was raised Jehovah’s Witness and my mom said fancy cars were temptations from the devil!” Realizing the higher, anxious pitch of his tone, he closed his eyes and exhaled. He sat at the table and clasped his hands together. “Let’s think of something else. How about we rent a car? My treat! Call a limo! A nice stretch job with a TV and a bar? How about that?”

Abed blurted out the next line without thinking. "Come on, live a little." But when he looked at Troy, and the genuine worry in his expression, Abed reconsidered. This might be too much for Troy, and maybe too much for Annie. In hindsight, when Ferris took a day off, he wasn't really thinking about Cameron or Sloane. He kind of just grabbed them and went. Abed wanted to think he had more empathy, like Annie wanted him to. He cared more about Troy and Annie than any movie scene could express. And there would be little character development if Cameron and Sloane disappeared. A movie with just Ferris and Jeannie would be the worst. Abed tilted his head to the side, using the silence to compute everything. 

"I care about you, Troy. If things go according to plan, I promise we won't get caught. And if we do, I'll take the blame. I'm used to it."

Now it was Troy's turn to ruminate in the silence. "I just don't want anyone getting hurt."

"No one gets hurt in the movie," Abed stated. "Spoilers, but fact."

"You're not doing this alone though, okay buddy?"

Abed nodded, and they did their special handshake once more before harmonizing together: "Troy and Abed on a day off!"

__ 

Standing in front of the Luis Guzman statue, Dean Pelton wrung his hands together. Chang stood to his left with a pathetic, defeated frown. Annie had begun craning her neck to see a car come around the bend. The Dean cleared his throat and spoke, hoping to distract from the egregious error on _hi_ s watch. Not that Annie had complained, yet the flamboyant man always felt the need to overcompensate.

“Once again, Annie, let me tell you how deeply saddened I am by your loss. And I am especially sorry for Chang, who was  _ extremely  _ rude over the phone.” Dean Pelton glared at the shorter man, who simply slumped his shoulders. “I had no idea your father was such a Southern gentleman.  You know I had a grandmother once...well, two actually. Man, who is born of woman, hath but a short time to live.”

Forcing a polite smile, Annie nodded. “Great.”

When the car rolled forward, her supposed father motioned over. “Oh Annie, dear! Hurry along now!”

“I guess that’s my dad," she said, innocent and sweet. "I gotta go.” She placed her dainty hand on his. “Dean Pelton -- Craig -- you’re a beautiful man.”

With a flustered laugh, the Dean ran a hand over his bald head. “Ah, well, I’ll always accept that compliment.” 

“I want to thank you for your warmth and compassion." Not knowing what else to say, and seeing the Dean still in throes at the appraisal, she nearly sprinted across the quad and up to the vintage vehicle. 

Steps slowed towards the man in the trench coat and fedora, which looked very familiar to a certain inspector of space and time. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rose onto her toes.  Through his sunglasses, Abed looked down at Annie and smirked. Putting on his best Don Draper impression, he placed the pad of his thumb on her chin. “Do you have a kiss for Daddy?”

The brunette giggled. “You’ve gotta be kidding.” With that, she leaned in and kissed her boyfriend. Tongues slipped into each other’s mouths, hands beginning to roam underneath his jacket and her cardigan.

Of course Dean Pelton and Chang gawked from a distance. Chang raised an eyebrow. “So that’s how it is in their family.”

“I had no idea Annie came from a Southern, mixed race family. Of course we don’t judge, but --" With a dismissive wave, the Dean headed back into the building, with Chang sulking along behind him. 

Annie slid into the passenger's seat and clicked her seatbelt in. 

ANNIE: Hi, Troy. You comfortable?

TROY: (hiding in the backseat) Hi, Annie. No.

ANNIE: (beaming) So, how did I do?

ABED: Great. You’ve gotten better since our first Dreamatorium experience.

ANNIE: Well when you texted me saying you were doing a Ferris Bueller episode, I couldn’t say no! It’s such a classic! I already read ahead in the biology textbook and made flashcards for the exam next month, so I think I'm deserving of a a day off. I even straightened my hair more to look like Mia Sara. (twirls hair around her finger) So, what are we gonna do?

ABED: The question isn’t “what are we gonna do,” the question is “what aren’t we going to do.” (He looks into the camera)  If you had access to a car like this, would you take it back right away? Neither would I. 

(SFX. Engine revving.)

TROY: (yelling) Don’t go so fast!

____

Britta had been fuming since noon. A trudge turned into a speed walk through the quad. She _definitely_ intended to bring this up in psychology class and use Abed's delusion as a talking point about necessary therapy. She would have mentioned it to the study group, but half were missing. Given Troy's absence, Britta figured Abed roped him into the scheme somehow. Surely Troy was already crying. Jeff didn't have any classes today, as he liked to cram all his classes into two days to spend as little time at Greendale as possible. If he were here, he would give a speech on the matter. But now she had no one to confide in. Shirley herded with the other sheep who actually believed this crap, and she'd rather throw up than willingly talk to Pierce. Even though Annie was their girlfriend, she might believe Britta and put a stop to this scheme. 

While walking, which involved shoving past people without regard, she heard a familiar Polish dialect. Grip tightened around her cup of black coffee.

“Save Abed? Save Abed? Save Abed Nadir?" Hearing her friend's name from a distance, Britta approached the table. It was decorated with pink flyers of Abed's face, and capital bold typeface reading: SAVE ABED. A boy with disheveled black hair and a polo t-shirt stood shaking a cheese ball jar full of coins. At that very moment, a student put a dollar into the jar. "You’re very generous, thank you!”

“Pavel?" Britta tapped him on the shoulder. "What are you doing?”

“Hey Britta," Pavel grinned. "Well, we’re collecting money to buy Abed a new kidney. And they run about 50 thousand or so American dollars, so if you could help out --”

The blonde scowled. “Go piss up a flagpole.”

“I’m sorry?” Pavel asked with a nervous laugh and a raised eyebrow. 

Britta narrowed her eyes and snatched a flyer off the table, crumpling it into her mouth. Grimacing at the taste of paper and ink, she spit it back out into her hand, and then placed it back on the table, because she would never litter. “You should be.”

Starburns sauntered over and dropped a quarter into the jar. Having seen enough, Britta stormed off towards her original destination. “Hey! What if you need a favor from Abed someday?" Starburns shouted after her. "Where will you be, you heartless wench!"

Raising her middle finger over her shoulder, she shouted back. “Can it, Starburns!”

“For the last time, my name is Alex!”

____

Dean Pelton pressed the call button on the office phone. “Edison home on line one. And watch your mouth this time.”

Immediately, a voicemail greeted him. He furrowed his brows at the sound of Annie's voice. “We can’t come to the phone right now. We’ve had a death in the family. If you need to reach us, we’ll be at the following number --"

“Abed is behind this. He's the mastermind pulling all the strings." Chang said, unprompted. "I've got no doubt about this. And now he’s got his girlfriend involved in this thing.”

The Dean nodded with a hand over his heart. “Her grandmother too.”

Chang shook his head condescendingly. “You pinhead.” He cracked his neck and let out a disgusted sound.  “I did not eat my twin in utero to have some socially inept kid leave  my cheese ou t in the wind.” With that, he left the office, thinking it best to plot to himself, not with the bald simpleton who called himself a figure of authority.

The dean pressed another button for a second voicemail, with a speaker who sounded eerily similar to Batman: “You have have reached the Russo Bros. Mortuary. We are deeply sorry  we are unable to come to the phone right no w but if you'll leave yo ur name and number, we’ll get back to you as soon as is humanly po ssible."

When Chang stepped out into the hallway, he spotted the bulletin board full of pink flyers. He tore one down and examined the student now turned enemy. Just the sight of his image made him snarl like a rabid dog. “Something's going on, dammit." he muttered to himself. " And I’m going to f nd out what it is. I’m going to catch this kid and mess him up! Fifteen years from now,  when he looks back o n the ruin his life’s become, he is going to remember  Benjamin Chang.” As the bell rang, the man stormed off to his next class, crumpling up the flyer and throwing it at Garett, who had been passing by.


	5. Scene 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANNIE: The city looks so peaceful from here.
> 
> ABED: Like Ferris said, anything is peaceful from 1353 feet. But it's actually 1450 feet.
> 
> TROY: I think I see Greendale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back with another chapter after like, what, 4 months? Sheesh. 
> 
> I wanna give a special shoutout to Jude who left the nicest comment on this fic and inspired me to FINALLY publish the fifth chapter. Enjoy, Human Beings and 80s Babes!

____

INT. A parking garage in Midtown.

TROY: (exasperated) We are not leaving the car here.

ABED: Why not?

TROY: Because we’re not! We’re going to take it back to Pierce, where it belongs, right now! Come on, let’s go. 

Troy grabs Annie's hand, but she removes it and places it back to his side. Cerulean eyes flip up towards the sky.

ANNIE: Troy, what’s going to happen to it? It’s in the garage.

TROY: Oh, I don’t know Annie! It could get wrecked, scratched, breathed on wrong. A pigeon could poop on it. 

ABED: Listen, will you calm down? I’m gonna give the guy a five to watch it. 

Abed reached over the side of the car and grabbed his leather jacket, an exact replica of Matthew's in the film. C rinkling a five dollar bill from the pocket, he whistled for the valet. The other two exchanged a puzzled look, as if to say: _Where did he get that jacket, and why did it come with five dollars?_

ABED: Hey, do you speak English?

LEONARD: I served in Korea. What country do you think this is?

ABED: (serious) Okay listen. I want you to take extra special care of this vehicle, okay?

LEONARD: You fellas have nothing to worry about. I’m a professional.

TROY: (hesitant) A professional what?

Leonard blew a raspberry and took the keys to the car. 

ABED: (to the camera) Cool. Cool, cool cool. 

___

EXT. A sunny day in Chicago, Illinois. The windy city alive around them, ANNIE, ABED and TROY, in that order, walk arm and arm down S. Wacker Drive. TROY is eating a Chicago style hot-dog. ANNIE smiles at near everything she sees.

TROY: (anxious) Do you think the car’s alright?

ANNIE: I’m sure it’s fine, Troy. You have onion on your lip. 

ABED: Look up ahead. This is the world’s tallest building.

Up ahead and above them was exactly that, towering over them in all its 1450 feet (that's 442 meters for all you international audience) and 108 stories.  It was the stop for Ferris, Sloane and Cameron is the Skydeck of Willis Tower, 233 South Wacker Drive, aka the tallest building in the U.S. Although probably better known by its former name, the Sears Tower. Occupying the block surrounded by Franklin Street and Wacker Drive, Adams Street and Jackson Boulevard, it's a national landmark. And of course, this is the second best view, because Bruce Wayne goes one better, as he observes the city from the very top of the building in _The Dark Knight._

Abed infodumps on the way there, up until they reach the highest story open for public viewing. It's pretty empty today, but there are a few parents and their children taking in the sight.

_ABED:_ Climb up, and lean forward on the glass. 

The three do so and stare down at the city, and it looks like one of their many school dioramas, where the vehicles looked like miniature models and the people looked like ants.Annie wonders about life in the city, where everything moves pretty fast, and can envision herself here in her FBI career. Abed wonders how the cameramen captured this bird's eye view. 

TROY: Abed, I’m being serious. I don’t feel so good. I have a bigger stomach ache than when I ate the entire cookie. Can we leave soon?

ANNIE: The city looks so peaceful from here.

ABED: Like Ferris said, anything is peaceful from 1353 feet. But it's actually 1450 feet.

TROY: I think I see Greendale.

ABED: Alright, that should be good. We got a lot to do if we’re gonna recreate this shot for shot. Let’s go.

(ANNIE and ABED descend and head towards the exit. TROY stays up on the beam and shakes his head.)

TROY: I hate Pierce. Son of a bitch is down there somewhere.

__

It was going fine for Annie until Abed asked a strange question. 

ABED: Do you want to get married?

"Well of course!" Annie grinned, already near melting at the word. "That’s why I made a wedding scrapbook. I mean, I want to graduate and find --"

ABED: I mean today.

Clenching her jaw, Annie turned to look at her boyfriend with wide eyes. She did _not_ like when people mocked her fantasies, and she _wasn't_ going to be naive about it. "Abed! Look, I’m excited to have fun, but maybe Troy is right and --"

ABED: I’m serious.

A pause as Abed looked expectantly at her. Cheeks sear bright pink, glossed lips stammering for a response. She made a giant scrapbook full of potential floral arrangements, cut out pictures of models in elegant white dresses. But knowing it was Abed, and knowing he probably only brought up the prospect because it correlated with the movie, she laughed.

ANNIE: I’m not getting married.

ABED: Why not?

ANNIE: What do you mean, why not? 

(ANNIE pauses and takes a breath, both frustrated and curious.)

ANNIE: Are you quoting the movie or are you genuinely asking?

ABED: Kind of both. Ferris makes some points that apply to both you and Sloane. Too young and feeling awkward as the only member of the group with a husband.

ANNIE: Well, my mother and father are married and also they hate each other. I guess Sloane and I aren’t very different.

(ABED scrunches his brows. It's real.)

ABED: I’m confused.

TROY: It’s like the car. He loves the car. He got married seven times. 

___

Donning a beret and a pair of sunglasses, as per the original look, Abed climbed the stairs to the restaurant. It wasn't Chez Quiz, but that had actually been a fabrication specifically made up for the movie. The real name of the restaurant was L'Orangerie. Sadly, that place closed it doors in 2006 and had been remodeled and re-imagined as Nobu shortly thereafter. It wouldn't work for what Abed was trying to go for. Set design was just as important to the recreation. It had to be authentic. 

Instead, he chose Yvette's, a fancy-schmancy place with a similar vibe and checkered flooring according to the images on Yelp. And fortunately for them, only a few more blocks north. The trio stepped inside, greeted with velvet couches and sunset mood lighting. Smooth jazz with saxophone and piano played softly as waiters dressed in maroon vests and white bowties carried trays of prime meats and garnish to their posh customers. Abed looked down, confirming the checkered flooring and rubbing his shoe on the ornate rug. He reached over the podium and skimmed the guest list for a party of three. Bingo. A man with a thin mustache donning a black vest came up to greet them, smarminess dripping from his spurious smile.

WAITER: Hello, welcome to Yvette's. May I help you?

ABED: You can sure as hell try. Hi, I’m  Eustice Whitman. Party of three for 12:00. 

The waiter raised an brow, glancing down at the list and sizing the three up. His beady eyes narrowed, suspicions confirmed. 

ABED: Is there a problem?

ANNIE: Abed, you just can’t use movie lines and expect --

WAITER: You’re  Eustice Whitman? 

ABED: That’s right. I’m Eustice Whitman.

WAITER: The ultimate blow-off food critic?

(ANNIE and TROY look at each other. ABED looks back at the WAITER, unfazed.)

ABED: Yep. That’s me.

WAITER: Listen, young man. We’re very busy here. Why don’t you take wonderboy and little miss sunshine back to the clubhouse?

ABED: Are you suggesting that I’m not who I say I am?

WAITER: I’m suggesting you leave before I have to get snooty.

TROY: Okay,  _ Eustice  _ \-- let’s go. 

ABED: I’m not going anywhere. We’d like to be seated. Or I can call the police. 

(TROY visibly grimaces, ANNIE grits her teeth.)

WAITER: (scoffs) Fine, call the police.

(ANNIE tugs on the sleeve of ABED’s jacket.)

TROY: Abed, can we just let it go, please?

ANNIE: Troy’s right, Abed, you’ve gone too far. You’re gonna get busted.

ABED: (to the camera) A. You can never go too far. B. If I’m gonna get busted, it’s not gonna be from a guy like that.

ABED: Ask for Eustice Whitman. 

ANNIE: May I speak to Eustice Whitman? The ultimate blow-off food critic?

WAITER: Eustice Whitman? Let me check the restaurant. Could you describe him for me please?

ANNIE: Striped hoodie, white t-shirt, denim jeans...pretty adorable.

(ABED leans down and kisses ANNIE’s cheek.)

The waiter scanned the restaurant and spotted Abed, who matches the description perfectly. He started to stammer, and suddenly his face twisted in silent rage.

WAITER: I appreciate your understanding. 

ABED: Well, it’s understanding that makes it possible for people like us to tolerate a person like yourself. (ABED hands him a wad of cash. Again, ANNIE and TROY look at each other with complete and utter bewilderment) Can you call a real waiter over?

The waiter ripped off his face mustache and gave a thumbs up.  When he turned on his heel, Abed smiled. He knew it would be a foolproof plan, just the way John Hughes directed it. And of course he hired another celebrity impersonator to recreate the scene. Annie lets out a scoff, understanding the set up. Abed turns to Troy, who remains wide-eyed.

ABED: And you said we wouldn’t have any fun.

(He presses a kiss to TROY’s cheek and disappears behind his menu)

__

INT. Study Room F. The table is empty, as Britta leans on the gray couch, staring blankly into space.

BRITTA:  Maybe I’m overreacting. According to my friends, I overreact to everything. Abed isn’t a bad guy. He’s one of my closest friends. But still, why should he get to go whatever he wants whenever he wants? Why does he get to skip class? You know what...

The blonde stood up and balled her hands into fists. "Screw him."

__

ABED: I used to worry that my family was the only one that had weirdness in it. That used to worry me. Then I saw how Troy functioned. His home life is really twisted. That's why he's sick all the time. It really bothers him. He’s the only guy I know who feels better when he’s sick. If I had to live with Pierce, I’d probably pray for a disease too. The place is like a museum. It’s very beautiful and very cold, and you’re not allowed to touch anything. I’m actually amazed that I got the car out of the garage. I caught Troy digging the ride once or twice. It's good for him. It teaches him to deal with his fear. Plus, and I must be honest here...I love driving it. It's so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up. Thank you.

(He turns off the sink and then swivels around from mirror to face the employee in the bathroom. Cue finger guns.)

ABED: Did I nail it?

MAN IN BATHROOM: Almost, exactly, sir.

ABED: Cool, cool cool cool.

(ABED dries his hands and exits the bathroom. End scene.)


End file.
